


Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

by Charli



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, RPF, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:25:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charli/pseuds/Charli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"~What do I do to make you want me? What have I got to do to be heard? What do I say when it's all over and sorry seems to be the hardest word?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://slashfest.livejournal.com/profile)[**slashfest**](http://slashfest.livejournal.com/) \- Jared and Jensen have a fight. Jared is being stubborn about making up. Jensen strips down and touches himself and teases them both crazy until Jared can't take it anymore and jumps into help. I want a really toppy Jared once he finally gets his hands on Jen. [Request by [](http://wendy.livejournal.com/profile)[**wendy**](http://wendy.livejournal.com/)]  
>  Title and Summary Lyrics by Elton John

It’s been five hours since Jared last spoke. He sits on the couch with his arms folded tightly across his chest, glowering at Jensen. No words, no sounds at all, just that intense angry stare that burns it’s way into directly into Jensen’s heart.

Jensen can’t even remember what he did to piss Jared off so badly. Something he said? Something he did maybe? Problem is, Jared won’t tell him and Jensen can’t recall and here they are, stuck in a holding pattern, unable to land and communications are down.

Jensen has tidied the apartment whilst Jared has sat and sulked, and there will be nothing for the cleaner to do when she comes in tomorrow. Jensen goes to fridge and takes out two cold bottles of beer. He pops the caps and takes them into the living room and sets one down next to his stone-faced boyfriend.

Jensen takes a swig from his own bottle and sits himself down in the armchair that faces the couch. It’s very late afternoon, not still winter but not quite yet spring and the sun is low in the sky and the light is beginning to fade. Jared is a silhouette in front of the window. Jensen reaches out an arm and flicks on the standard lamp beside him.

Jared blinks against the sudden brightness but still remains a resolute statue that refuses to acknowledge Jensen’s presence. Jensen takes another drink, stretches his legs out in front of him and idly scratches at his stomach through his t-shirt.

Jensen’s fingers begin to ruche the grey cotton and it rides slowly up his body, exposing lightly tanned skin and taut muscle. He rubs his hand across the flat of his stomach, fingers dipping just below the waistband of his jeans. It’s no big gesture; just a man and his beer having a rummage and a scratch.

Jensen undoes the button at the top of his jeans with a steady practised thumb and forefinger. The waistband loosens and the zip slides down an inch, no more, and the elastic waistband of his Calvin Klein’s are exposed.

Jared moves. The first movement he’s made since he stopped speaking. He reaches out an arm and takes the beer that Jensen left on the table beside him. The bottle is covered with condensation and it leaves a little ring of wet behind it as Jared raises it to his lips and takes a swig.

And then, once again, he is a statue.

Jensen puts down his own beer, stretches his arms out wide, as if he is trying to relieve the tension from his body. Then, in a single fluid movement, he whips his t-shirt off over his head and throws it at Jared.

The t-shirt hits Jared square in the face and then falls to the floor. Jensen narrows his eyes but the silent fucker doesn’t even blink. Jensen knows he is currently at DEFCON 4 and decides to raise things by a level.

Jensen tenses his chest muscles, flexes his pecs and tightens his abs. His fingers flick lazily at his nipples and then he slides a hand down his taut waist and down onto his crotch which he squeezes firmly, showing off the size and shape of his rapidly hardening cock.

DEFCON 3 has just been reached.

Jensen makes a big deal of slithering out of his jeans. He kicks them out of the way and then sits back in the chair, hooking one leg over the arm, and eyeing Jared the way a starving lion looks at a zebra.

Jared, still motionless, still silent, swallows hard. Jensen hears it and knows he is getting through. All it takes is a bit of cock play and once again Jared will be his. Jensen picks up his beer and drinks, letting some of the frothy brew run down his chin and onto his chest. He wipes the liquid across his tanned flesh, but doesn’t wipe it away and it catches the light, making his skin shine.

Jensen’s cock is fully erect now, tenting harshly inside his shorts. Jensen slips his fingers inside the waistband and begins to lower the fabric…welcome to DEFCON 2 people.

Shorts now abandoned, Jensen sits naked in the chair, legs apart, cock hard, muscles tight, thumb in his mouth and eyes fixed on Jared, daring him to look away.

Jared’s jaw is firmly clenched, his eyes stare back with fire and Jensen knows he is fighting not to lower his gaze as Jensen takes his thumb from his mouth and positions the moistened tip on the head of his cock.

Jensen’s thumb makes lazy circles around the swollen head as his fingers tighten around the shaft. Precum makes it red and glossy under the lamplight and Jensen knows his erection is a thing of beauty.

He begins to fist it slowly, hand moving up and down to the rhythm of his own ecstasy. He starting to forget that he’s putting on a show for his spurned lover, that he’s actually trying to get Jared to respond to him, and he is now solely getting off on the fact that Jared is looking angrier and angrier as he watches Jensen strum his cock faster and faster.

Jensen bites down on his lower lip, one hand gently cupping his balls, the other focused firmly on the task, quite literally, in hand.

Jensen’s eyes roll back in his head and he knows that any second he’s going to come. He’s breathing hard, a sheen of sweat across his beer-scented body, and he’s just about at DEFCON 1 when someone grabs him hard and hauls him from the chair.

Somewhere between watching Jared and almost ecstasy, Jared has moved from the couch, removed all his clothes and now has Jensen bent over the arm of the chair, ass in the air and he’s sliding two spit-slick fingers inside him.

Jensen gasps hard. Too shocked, too aroused to speak. Jared’s fingers are working hard in his ass. Normally with Jared, there is gentleness, there is time and there is patience. But since this has now turned into full scale Thermo Nuclear War, Jared’s normal ways have been left behind on the couch, along with his beer and his clothes.

Jared is biting hard at Jensen’s neck, and words tumble from his mouth into Jensen’s ear “You want me Jen? You fucking want me that bad? I’ll fuck you Jen, oh yeah I’m gonna fuck you.”

Jensen’s teeth grind together as Jared’s cock presses its way into his barely lubricated ass. And oh God it’s tight and hot and there’s pain and pleasure and Jared is banging his body into him so hard that Jensen’s cock is rubbing against the fabric of the chair and he knows, just knows, that it’s going to leave friction burns. But he’s powerless to move.

Jared is too tall, too strong, too determined in his fucking to let Jensen so much as shift his body weight to another foot. Jared thrusts and barks into Jensen’s ear “Are you sorry fucker? Are you sorry now Jen?”

Jensen groans deeply and bites at the cushions “Yes, yes oh God yes. I’m so very sorry.”

Jensen moans and he comes, face buried in the chair’s cushion, cum sliding down the side of the chair (which is going to prove to be an embarrassing stain to explain to the upholsterers in a weeks time), and Jared deep in his ass, still pounding, still fighting.

Still hard, Jared slides his cock out of Jensen’s ass and presses the head against Jensen’s tailbone and his cum shoots, like a white rainbow, up the length of Jensen’s spine. Jared grunts and takes a hand and begins to rub the slick cum into his boyfriend’s skin.

Jensen is still bent over the chair, pained and exhausted, satiated and surprised. This is a new Jared, and Jensen kind of likes it. Slowly he straightens up, he smells of beer and sex and he really wants a shower and a cuddle. But things aren’t over quite yet. “You’re honestly sorry?” Jared asks.

“Honestly truly.”

Jared frowns “What for?”

“What?”

“What are you sorry for?”

“Whatever I did. Whatever I did I’m sorry for it. Now lets go take a shower.”

Jensen takes Jared’s hand and starts to drag him towards the bathroom.

“You called me fat.” Says Jared in a low voice.

“What? I did not.” Jensen turns on the shower spray and winces as it hits him full in face.

“You totally did. You said I was fat.”

“When? When did I ever say that?”

“I forget now, but you did say it.”

“You’re just making shit up now.”

“Am not.”

Jared crosses his arms and stands behind Jensen as the water cascades down over the both of them. Jensen reaches for the shower gel and then realises that Jared is in a huff. Jensen squeezes some gel out onto the palm of his hand and turnes to face Jared. As he begins to lather himself he mutteres under his breath “DEFCON 4 to DEFCON 3 initiated.”

THE END


End file.
